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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784156">Damn Maths Class</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastywhiteperson/pseuds/pastywhiteperson'>pastywhiteperson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, parental comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:41:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastywhiteperson/pseuds/pastywhiteperson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruthie is failing her maths class. Cue anxiety attacks and hugging.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Damn Maths Class</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ruthie is about 14 in this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Negative thoughts circled around Ruthie's head for hours as she waited for her dad to get home.<br/>
Her maths teacher called her parents to tell them about her failing grade. She tried so hard in that class, but her work was never good enough. She spent hours trying to solve just a few equations when she should have already been finished. Her stomach dropped like lead when she heard the door open and her dad gave her a serious look that made her skin crawl.<br/>
"You're mum is at rehearsal, she won't be home until later tonight," Brian said. Ruthie nodded but didn't say anything else. The tension in the room was tangible as she avoided looking up, opting to stare at her hands.<br/>
Brian sat on the other end of the couch with a sigh, "You're failing maths," he stated.<br/>
"Mhm," Ruthie squeaked, pulling her knees to her chest.<br/>
"Why? I thought you were better at it than this?" His voice was gentle, but Ruthie took it as him taunting her. Her body began trembling and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.<br/>
"I don't know," she replied weakly. 'I'm dying. I can't feel my fingers. I'm gonna die'<br/>
Brian didn't seem to notice the tremors and continued, "You're smarter than this, why aren't you able to do the math?" It was a genuine question, he wanted to know how he could help his daughter. But it was received as condescending.<br/>
Ruthie's throat tightened and she couldn't breathe. She started crying and wheezing, trying to get some air into her lungs. "I'm sorry- I- I'm sorry I'm so stupid." Brian moved next to her and rubbed her back, "Hey, Ruthie, I need you to breathe. Okay honey? Try and take some deep breaths." Ruthie tried to take deep breaths, but her body refused to listen. "I can't, I can't," She shook her head roughly and dug her fingernails into her forearms hard enough to draw blood.<br/>
Brian noticed her fingers and gently pried them away, "Easy, Ru. You need to breathe. I'll do it with you." Her dad guided her through a breathing exercise, rubbing her hands softly. It took 10 minutes of breathing with Ruthie get her calmed down a bit. She was still shaking and breathing fast, but nowhere near what it was before, "That's it, Ruthie. Just breathe. I'm not upset with you at all, I didn't mean to sound like was," He said.<br/>
Ruthie started crying again, this time fueled by the depression she felt after the anxiety attack. She felt numb and exhausted, but she continued to cry into her father's chest. Brian ran a hand through her short hair and held her tight. The sobs turned into harsh coughing fits, interrupted by hiccups. She eventually calmed down to just sniffles and she was spent.<br/>
She didn't want to lift her head way from her dad's warm chest. He seemed to pick up on that and whispered to her, "Let's move over to the recliner seat, yeah?" They moved down few cushions to the recliner seat and Brian flipped it up. Ruthie snuggled into his chest and mumbled, "I'm cold." Brian pulled the throw blanket on the back of the couch over them and held his daughter impossibly close.<br/>
"Tomorrow you're staying home, you need a break from all the stress. You can sleep down here if you want- it's already 6 and you must be exhausted after that. I'll stay here or you can have mum stay with you once she gets home," He explained. Ruthie didn't respond, she was already asleep. Later when Anita got home, Ruthie woke up and sleepily held her arms out for a cuddle from her. Brian maneuvered out from under Ruthie and let Anita lay with her. Ruthie pressed close and mumbled, "I'm sorry, l'll do better," before falling back asleep.</p>
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